


Established Science

by Endemic



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, I'm Sorry, M/M, Minor Relationships, Perry the Professor, Perryshmirtz - Freeform, Quiet Perry, Sciency things, Slash, human!perry, humanized perry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 13:00:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2069169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endemic/pseuds/Endemic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an effort to spend more time with his daughter, Heinz Doofenshmirtz decides to take classes at Danville College alongside Vanessa. Professor P. just wants the semester to be over.    [ Perry/Doofenshmirtz - College AU ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Established Science

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and criticism are highly encouraged. This is my favorite pairing in the world and I would love to hear your thoughts on this fic.

“Excuse me, Professor P?” 

The voice hailed from the front of the lecture hall where one Heinz (bane of Perry's existence) Doofenshmirtz sat next to a very unenthused young girl who was leaning as far away from him as space allotted. 

The girl, Vanessa, and Heinz's identical surnames told Perry that they were likely related, but what shocked him was that the extreme age difference could only mean they were something along the lines of father and daughter. The notion was confirmed by the way the girl looked like she was always dying in the wake of his presence. 

“Hello! Earth to Professor P! I'm raising my hand over here!”

Every. Single. Class. 

There was always _something_. 

Perry's attention snapped pointedly to the older man.

“You gave us these instructor assessment sheets to fill out, but there's a little space here for your name—and well, I'm not sure what exactly I should put—I mean, _Professor P_ is not really very _detailed_ , there must be a ton of professors that go by an initial.”

Perry stared hard at the student from under the rim of his fedora. The glares he had given the man at the beginning of the semester had dwindled down to cold looks a month ago, mentally willing silence upon him. Yes, he had long since stopped taking Doofenshmirtz seriously enough to muster up a glare.

“So if you don't mind I'd really like to know what I should put here to be more specific. I wouldn't want the feedback ratings I'm giving you to go to Professor Peter on the other side of the science building.”

Apparently the breath Perry had been holding to suppress his temper was just gestating for nine months to be born as a long, drawn out sigh. Turning on his heel, he snatched the remnants of a chalk stick from the small shelf below the blackboard and underlined _Professor P._ hard where it was already written in flaky white letters.

“Sheesh, you don't have to be so dramatic,” Heinz said, though he then wrote down the professor's name with an equally dramatic flourish.

Well, that was one student that was going to be rating him with bad marks. Danville College was strict when it came to teacher assessments, issuing them twice a semester to measure improvement. Perry could only imagine what Doofenshmirtz was writing in the additional comments box. 

The 1:30PM class period containing Heinz did have a redeeming quality, since Phineas Flynn and Ferb Fletcher were also in attendance. They were bright kids who were younger than the typical students in his class. Yet, here they were, completely destroying the grading curve for everyone else. More importantly, they _adored_ their professor. 

To be fair, he was also their long-time neighbor who had babysat them for extra money when he was in college himself. And he frequently ate dinner with their family. But Perry liked to think that they would have enjoyed his class even without the familiarity. 

“You know, when I heard that you were the strong and silent type, I don't know, I guess I just pictured you as more strong and a lot less silent. I mean, who does that? Who teaches an entire semester without saying more than two sentences? It's pretty creepy now that I think about it.” Heinz visibly shivered, dropping his pencil to clutch at his arms for warmth. “No, seriously—it gives me the chills.”

It took everything in Perry not to chuck the chalk at Heinz Doofenshmirtz's head.

* * * 

Perry's work was done for the day, and it was only three in the afternoon. That was one thing he loved about teaching college—class schedules could be very forgiving for professors as well as students. 

He didn't live too far from campus, and the walk home was usually a peaceful one, since no one recognized him with his hat off. He'd taken to dying the top part of his hair teal some time ago (a result of a lost bet with the Flynn-Fletcher brothers, though he'd been maintaining it for longer than necessary because _why not?_ ), and the color did a good job of keeping people's attention off of his face long enough for him to not be recognized by students in passing.

It wasn't that he didn't like his students, he just liked keeping to himself more.

It was on his walk home through campus that Perry made the mistake of hesitating in front of a cafe's window, fingers absently moving to his growling stomach.

He had only been eyeing the displayed muffins through the glass for a moment before his longing was interrupted by a passerby. 

“Hey, do you think you could maybe get the door for me? My hands are kinda full.”

Perry froze at the unmistakable, grating voice.

Heinz Doofenshmirtz. 

Shoot.

Eager to not be recognized, Perry bowed his head and gave a slight nod before pulling the door open with much more force than necessary. The door's hanging bell swung wildly in protest, but Perry couldn't bring himself to care about whatever attention it might be drawing. When the other man didn't immediately go through the door, Perry allowed a brief flicker of eye contact and a small _after you_ gesture before his gaze returned to burning holes in the pavement. 

“Hey, thanks. Nice hair by the way, it caught me in a trance there for a second,” Doofenshmirtz said as he strode past, struggling to see over the rolled up blueprints overflowing in his arms.

Wait, _blueprints?_

Against his better judgment, Perry followed the man inside, pretending to look at the menu high behind the register while the blueprints were deposited on one of the many empty tables.

The older man then proceeded to stroll up and place his order of a coffee and a blueberry muffin. Perry almost thought Doofenshmirtz wasn't going to give him the time of day again until he turned and said, “You know, I never really understood the whole opening doors as chivalry thing. When I was still with my ex-wife, I never dared open doors for her.”

Once again, Perry had never seen such an embarrassing display of _too much personal information._

“It's pretty insulting, like saying you don't think someone is strong enough to swing a wooden board on a hinge.” Heinz searched Perry's face for understanding but apparently came up wanting, because he continued with, “You know, because the hinge supports the weight of the otherwise heavy door and allows it to move freely—a baby could open it.”

When Perry just looked at him with cautious hesitance, like one might regard a potential serial killer, Heinz finished the transaction and went back to his curious pile of papers at the table.

The cashier shifted his attention to Perry.

Well, he might as well order the muffins he was eyeing and continue to spy on his least favorite pupal.

The only problem was that the place was empty and Perry found himself looking at the many tables, muffin in hand, unsure of how he was supposed to get close enough to spy without being a weirdo who sat in the table next to a stranger despite ample seat availability. 

“Oh! You can sit here if you want,” Doofenshmirtz called, solving his dilemma in the most infuriating way.

Perry held up a hand to signal a polite decline.

“Oh come on, I insist.”

Perry shook his head, forcing a smile.

Doofenshmirtz pulled out the chair next to him. “Aaah, come on, it's not like I've got anything top secret going on over here.” 

Perry couldn't keep his eyes from flitting down to the cluttered table. 

“Oh those? So maybe I've got something _a little_ top secret going on. But you look like a trustworthy guy. Plus, it helps me if I think out loud—and that'll just look bad if I'm sitting here by myself.”

Doofenshmirtz was just as annoying in public as he was in class.

“Believe me, I've been kicked out of places for talking to myself. It's the twenty first century, you'd think a guy could do that without being judged.” 

Perry wasn't sure if it was his curiosity or his need to _shut the other man up_ that lead him into the offered chair. 

One glance at the blueprints snared his attention. The machines scrawled on the pages were so detailed that they had to be taken seriously.

Unable to stop himself, Perry's eyes snapped up to Doofenshmirtz, searching. For once, Heinz Doofenshmirtz wasn't talking. Instead, he was hunched over a blueprint that curled at the edges. Heinz's fingers were splayed over the thing, stopping it on its plight to re-roll itself. From what Perry could make out beneath his fingers, it was some sort of mechanical helmet that involved a large, retracting signal dish. 

What in the world...?

“Oh, sorry again—forgot you were there for a second. You're so quiet. You remind me of this professor I have, he's a real wallflower. But not the kind that you pass by and don't notice—just the kind that doesn't talk.”

 _ALL flowers don't talk_ , is what Perry wanted to say, but instead he just knitted his brows even further in bafflement. It seemed impossible that the other man didn't recognize him in such proximity, even without the hat.

“That actually kinda ties in with what I'm doing here,” he gestured down at the scrawled contraption, “You see, this is a blueprint for a device that reads minds. I like to call it the Know-What-Professor's-Thinking-inator.”

Perry knew it must be all kinds of socially unacceptable, but he buried his face in his hands and stared at the man through his fingers in horror. He was crazy—Heinz Doofenshmirtz was _legitimately crazy_ and probably going to kill himself or someone else with the misuse of _satellite dish helmets._

“—I'm sorry, your hair is really distracting—I like it, but it's distracting. That reminds me of another thing I don't understand. Why is it only goth or similarly weird teenagers that dye their hair? No offense to goth teenagers, my daughter is one—but I see someone like you, an otherwise good-looking and stern man with hair the color of seawater and just think _hey, why not?_ Adults like color too.”

Perry almost forgot to shake off the scrutiny with a shrug. The whole thing was too uncomfortable and he found himself trying not to glow from embarrassment while Doofenshmirtz waited for some sort of response. Eager to change the subject, Perry motioned between the blueprint and himself. 

“Oh, sure, sure—you can take a look at it, I don't mind,” Heinz paused as if remembering something. “Just don't steal the design. If you want to read someone's thoughts you're going to have to build your own. Or suck up to me, at least.”

Perry couldn't hold back the eye-roll as he carefully plucked the design from under Doofenshmirtz's nose.

Physics was more of his thing, certainly not biology or anything close to neuroscience—let alone engineering—but from what he could tell, the contraption actually had a great deal of basis in real science. He searched it for a long time, growing more and more frustrated with the fact that he couldn't find anything that looked remotely ridiculous about it, barring the concept, which was insane. 

Giving up, Perry peered at Doofenshmirtz over the paper, equally amazed and annoyed.

The man might actually be a genius. 

“If you have any suggestions on how to make it translate the thoughts into actual sentences, that would be nice. I'm not as great with the software stuff.”

Perry opened his mouth, closed it, and then finally blurted, “Why don't you just ask him?”

“Ask who?”

“Your professor.”

“He teaches physics, come on, what would he know about coding?”

“No,” Perry practically growled. How was it possible that he communicated with the man so much better without words? “What he's thinking.”

“Ask him what he's thinking?” Doofenshmirtz stroked his chin, seemingly mulling this over for the first time. “Nah, it would never work. The guy's way too mysterious. Which is why it's worth it to—hey wait a minute...”

Perry held his breath and leaned away as the man tilted his head and peered at him through an invisible magnifying glass. 

“Now that I think about it, your voice sounds really familiar.”

Perry's eyes darted from side to side, frantic to avoid recognition. There weren't many people in Danville with Australian accents.

“You look kind of familiar too...”

Doofenshmirtz lifted his hand between them to block the view of Perry's teal hair.

Perry bolted straight up out of his chair, trying to hinder Doofenshmirtz's attempt to imagine him with a hat.

“AAAH!” Doofenshmirtz fell to the floor in his haste to point frantically. “PROFESSOR P!”

“Perry!” he corrected automatically.

“Your name is Perry, Professor P?”

Shoot—why did he say that?

“Perry the professor...” Doofenshmirtz mused, calming down slightly and crawling back into his chair. “It's got a nice ring to it.”

Judging by the uncomfortable sensation in his cheeks, Perry was sure he was turning beet red. He seldom let students know his name, he didn't even like them to know the sound of his voice. Careless, careless, careless.

Doofenshmirtz looked him over, as if seeing him for the first time. Perry tried his best to keep his breathing even, but he could feel his lungs working unusually hard.

"No wonder you wear the fedora—I mean, I like the green hair, don't get me wrong, but it's making me question my entire outlook on you as a professional.”

The notion that Perry's hair color should affect Doofenshmirtz of all people's opinion of him was absurd.

Perry opened his mouth to snap at the other man, but listened to his better judgment and closed it again. 

"No, please, be my guest," Doofenshmirtz said, leaning across the table and resting his head on laced fingers in mock attentiveness. "I've only spent the past like, twenty-two class periods listening to the sound of you silently hating me. Now that you actually want to speak, you might as well do it."

Perry meant to walk out without another word—he really did. "Fine: It's rich that my professionalism is being called into question by a man who introduced himself in his college Physics class as a _part-time divorced stay-at-home dad who lives off of alimony checks_.”

"Ouch, not cool Perry the professor, way to put down all the stay-at-home dads out there."

Perry growled, the vocalization too rough to be socially acceptable. It was embarrassing that this man could get under his skin so easily, not to mention that he did feel a little bad for having to take a shot at hardworking fathers in order to make a point.

Perry's cheeks were buzzing with color due to his own outburst. He frowned hard, eyes boring into the other man's in attempt to channel all of his hatred into one look. He had never noticed the purple rings of sleep deprivation under Doofenshmirtz's eyes before. 

Shaking the strange observation, Perry turned to leave.

Bony fingers caught him around the wrist and Perry had never had such a strong urge to hit someone who didn't really deserve it.

“Tell me what you're thinking, professor."

“ _What?_ " Perry asked with a sideways glare.

"You suggested earlier that I just ask him—you—instead of building an inator to find out what you're thinking."

"A what?"

"Inator—it's what i call my inventions—never mind, look, it's not important, you told me to ask so here I am—asking. What are you thinking? Why are you so... nonverbal all the time?"

"I’m just a quiet person, okay?" Perry snapped, convincing no one. "My two best friends are the little kids who have lived next door to me for most of their lives, who talk to me almost every day about their ideas and dreams and invite me over for dinner with their family and most of the time I do little more than smile at them. What makes you think I’ll talk to you, if I don't even talk to them?"

"You're talking to me now," Doofenshmirtz offered, blinking at the steam Perry just blew off. "Also, if you're talking about those Phineas and Ferb kids, I don't like them. The tall one keeps winking at my daughter.”

Perry hated him. He really did. 

"Okay, I know you hate me--"

Right.

"And I take up a lot of class time asking taxing theoretical questions--"

Yep.

"And I’m not the best listener on the planet--"

Accurate. 

“But I really think that we could be friends--"

" _Why?_ " Perry asked, cold and rhetorical. 

Doofenshmirtz faltered. "Well, it's—okay, maybe it's not that we could be so much as I want to be--"

" _Why?_ " Perry reiterated. The man was delusional.

"I like you, Perry the professor. I find you fascinating."

 _And I find you infuriating,_ Perry thought, hating the good sort of warmth that spread through him at the other man's words.

“Why are you even taking my class?" Perry asked through clenched teeth. "You spend most periods trying to question established science. I have never seen such an inability to accept fact for _heavily researched and proven_ fact."

"Sorry, professor." Was he actually apologizing? “I would have cut you off mid-way through your sentence, but I really like hearing you talk," Doofenshmirtz furrowed his brow. "Scientific curiosity isn't a bad thing—you've gotta be aware of that."

He had a point. But the laws of physics were the laws of physics. Period. "Stop calling me professor—it sounds absurd outside the lecture hall. You're so much older than I am."

"Ouch again—I can't be that much older. A decade maybe..."

Perry stared.

"Okay—maybe a little more—but you can't be older than what? Thirty? Thirty-five?"

Perry shrugged and Doofenshmirtz coughed into his fist, eager to change the subject.

"But you're right—I don't really need to be taking your class—or any classes, for that matter. I've always been kinda a, independent learner."

Perry raised a skeptical brow.

“I couldn't pass up the opportunity to bond with my daughter. She only goes through college once, you know. I want to be there with her through the experience.”

Vanessa Doofenshmirtz was already a gratuitous receiver of Perry's pity, but this increased it tenfold.

"Heinz, that's probably the worst idea I've ever heard." He had to be honest for Vanessa’s sake. It was hard for him to see kids suffer unnecessarily. "You're making the girl miserable. It's embarrassing to be smothered by a parent so... publicly."

For the first time ever, Heinz Doofenshmirtz actually seemed to doubt himself. "No—no. That can't be right. She's just moody and standoffish because that's what's hip. She enjoys my company."

Perry wished he hadn't said anything. It staple-gunned his heart a little, seeing a glimpse of what effect Vanessa’s rejection might have on her dad, should he ever dispel his denial.

Wanting to correct his mistake, Perry forced himself to reach across the table and put his hand on Doofenshmirtz's. The man's hands felt like all sharp angles under Perry's stubbier, fleshier fingers.

Doofenshmirtz twitched as if his initial reaction was to withdrawal, but he quelled whatever urge he felt and instead locked eyes with Perry's apologetic ones.

“That was unprofessional, I shouldn't have pried into your personal life. The truth is, Vanessa is lucky to have such an... attentive father.”

Doofenshmirtz's gaze wandered down to their hands, fixated and silent.

Weird. Just plain weird.

It was unnerving. The man was a certified Chatty Cathy, and yet he had nothing to say.

Despite all of his usual eagerness to talk the ears off of anyone and everyone, could it be possible that Doofenshmirtz was actually a timid man?

What would drive someone to have such a strong attachment to their daughter, anyway?

Did he not have anyone else in his life that would tolerate his companionship? Friends? Parents? Siblings? 

Perry squeezed the man's hand. He had never noticed before that Heinz was the basic definition of an outcast. Perry had never felt so bad about not liking someone. "Look, Heinz, I'll be honest with you. I don't know why I find you so grating but I do—I'll try to stop being so cold if you try to—"

"That's okay, professor. I try to irritate you on purpose." Doofenshmirtz dismissed Perry's strained peace treaty with a wave of his hand. "Hey, do you think thoughts would be more easily translated by touch than satellite dish helmet? Maybe I could rig up a machine that—"

Perry jerked his hand away as if burned. It was all he could do not to slam his hands on the table as he rose, giving the man one last glance before he walked away.

"Hey, this was nice! We should do this again sometime," Doofenshmirtz called after him, making no attempt to follow, though Perry had expected him to.

Good. Good riddance.


End file.
